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husband to care for and children to raise and a household to run. There is no greater purpose in life for a woman.”
    Before the Battle of Bull Run, Julia would have agreed. She had directed all of her energy into looking pretty enough to attract Nathaniel Greene, believing that her life would be complete once she married him. But the conversation she’d overheard had revealed to her how shallow her life was—and it made her long for something more. “I need a devout wife,” Nathaniel had said, “one who is devoted to meeting the needs of others, whose lifelong passion, like mine, is to spread the Gospel.”
    “Now, I know for a fact that Mrs. Blair’s son Haywood is quite interested in you,” Mrs. Hoffman continued. “So are young Ralph Woolsey and David Jennison and Arthur Hoyt. But you’ve given all of them the brush-off.”
    “I went to the church social with David Jennison last August, and he bored me to tears,” Julia said. But she knew that the only reason she’d gone with him was because of Nathaniel. He had just returned from Washington, and she’d wanted to make him jealous. But why had she wanted to make him jealous if she hated him so much? She’d never felt so confused in her life.
    “You haven’t given David Jennison or anyone else a chance. I’m not blind, Julia. I know you’ve been sweet on Reverend Greene for some time. I don’t know what happened between the two of you down in Washington, but—”
    “The war happened,” she mumbled. And he broke my heart .
    “Indeed …Well, I’m glad that your infatuation with him is finished. I didn’t want to say anything for fear you would dig in your heels, but he really isn’t up to our social standards. His family are a bunch of preachers—nobodies, really—and he barely makes enough money to keep you in ball gowns. Then there are all those radical ideas of his. He filled your head and your poor cousin Caroline’s head with his nonsense. It simply won’t do for a Hoffman to marry a fanatic.”
    For the first time in months, Julia thought of her cousin Caroline in Richmond. Her letters had stopped arriving after the war began, but before then, every line Caroline had written reverberated with love for Charles St. John. Julia was certain that if she had turned off the gaslights Caroline’s letters would have glowed in the dark. Julia had once felt that same breathless, shimmering joy whenever she was around Nathaniel. Now she wondered if she would ever feel anything like it again.
    “Your sister, Rosalie, did so well for herself with her husband,” Mother continued. “You could do just as well if you’d make an effort.”
    Julia nearly groaned aloud. She didn’t want a life—or a husband— like her sister’s. The last time she had visited Rosalie, the emptiness of her life had frightened Julia so badly she had canceled her theater date that evening with Ralph Woolsey because he reminded her of her sister’s bland, unemotional husband. Rosalie was Louis’ possession, swallowed up in his shadow and resolved to do his bidding. Like an actress on stage, she played the part of wife and mother fastidiously—and joylessly. Rosalie was not a happy woman.
    “Do you love Louis?” Julia had asked her sister.
    “Of course I love him,” Rosalie had snapped at her. Not a very convincing performance. Nor did her life seem to have any more meaning now than it had before marriage.
    “Yes, a husband and children will give your life a purpose,” Mother said now, plodding forward as energetically as the carriage horses. “That’s why women get married. And speaking of Louis, I understand that his cousin Martin is interested in courting you.”
    “Rosalie’s husband is a conceited bore. So is his cousin Martin.”
    “I simply won’t tolerate this behavior for another day, Julia. Our servants have better manners than you do. Now you listen to me. This is no time to be particular about who you marry. The war is changing everything. Half